


Lord Van Eck and the Sharpshooter

by squirrelgirlisthebest



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Bandits & Outlaws, Feudalism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 08:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17721362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirrelgirlisthebest/pseuds/squirrelgirlisthebest
Summary: Basically, Wylan is a Lord's son and Jesper is a bandit. The Highwaymen/Robin Hood AU literally no one asked for but I still wrote. It's short, but it's still a cute read.





	1. The Lord's Son

**Author's Note:**

> So there are a few inaccuracies in this fic. First off, circuses were not invented in the time when feudalism was popular. Also the gun wasn't invented until late in feudalism. Let's just say that Kerch evolved differently then us and ignore those points for now.

**Wylan**

 

Wylan Van Eck knew from a young age he was not going to have an easy life. In his early years, of course, he was carefree. He would play in the gardens for hours and then eat dinner with his mother who loved him very much. Sometimes, when he wasn't busy, his father would join them as well. But that time, as all things are wont to do, came to an end. When Wylan was only six, his mother died of typhoid fever. But he hadn't known that until he was twelve. His father had simply told him that his mother was gone and was never coming back. He had cried for hours every night wondering why she would leave him. But his problems were only just beginning. At seven, his tutors began to become frustrated with his inability to read simple sentences.

“Just look at the page, Wylan,” his tutors would instruct him. “Good, now what shapes are in the paper?”

“I don't know. They're all mixed up!” his seven year old self would cry, scared of the yelling that always followed his lessons.

“Don't be ridiculous! What does it say?”

“I don't know!”

At first, they believed he was simply stubborn, a mentality many Lord's sons have. They blamed his misbehavior on entitlement. When his father had finally had enough, the tutors had moved from yelling to beating. As the years went on, the tutors deduced he was an idiot, incapable of reading. His father had not been pleased. Though he was still given the classes he would need to become the Lord some day, he was under no such impression. He would not be the Lord; he had known that since the moment his father's face had morphed into disgust while looking at his own son. His father hated him, and it would always be that way.

…

Wylan knew he was different from the other boys. He had tried to fit in with the servants’ sons at first. None of them could read either, so he wouldn't be an outcast. But soon he realized he was an outcast in another way as well. He had no interest in girls.

It seemed to be the main topic of conversation among the kitchen servant's children. The young boys seemed to be solely interested in how to best get the attention of a girl. Wylan, however, had no trouble doing that. It was just that he felt no desire to do so. He had no interest in the modest young servant girls who giggled and blushed when he smiled their way. No interest in the prim and proper ladies of his father's court who hid behind a fan and ornate dresses. Instead, he found himself focusing on the stable boys and the coach drivers. The shoe shiners in particular looked quite dapper in their livery. 

His fascination with boys grew into something else. He not only craved their attention, but so much more. He wished he could kiss a boy, if only once, just to know how it might feel. He knew it was wrong to think this way, to feel this way. But he could not stop himself. He withdrew from social interaction all together in order to avoid being discovered. 

He spoke when only spoken to, and hardly ever in more than a sentence at a time. He kept up the act, appearing in the court and smiling at girls. But he was scared, so scared, of living under his father's roof. He knew, at any moment, he could be discovered. He knew, at any moment, he could be thrown out. His father had remarried, and his wife was soon with child. Wylan knew he was being replaced. He was scared, but there was nothing he could do. At least when it was all over no one would no his secrets. That was a mercy. He would take those secrets to his grave.

...

For the first time in many months the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. He'd been stuck in lessons all day, a gilded cage of sorts, and he hadn't had the chance to see the sun. As his footsteps resounded throughout the marble halls, Wylan smiled widely. He loved spring. Though many complained that it was rainy and wet, Wylan adored the season. The weather was not so hot that it burnt his pale skin, and the flowers were just beginning to bloom. He was practically skipping by the time he reached to rose garden. He came to a halt in front of Cordelia, a young gardener who was one of Wylan's only friends at the manor. 

“The roses look splendid! And the weather is just perfect. What a delightful day.” The gardens did look particularly lovely. Though most of the flowers were only beginning to blossom, they were beautiful to admire.

Cordelia smiled softly at his comments, and spoke just as softly in response. “Maybe for some. But the Crows have struck again. This time they attacked Lord Hoede's carriage.”

The Crows were a small group of bandits who raided Lords’ carriages in seemingly random order. Surprisingly, though, they didn't keep the money for themselves. They kept only what they needed to fund their operation and gave the rest to the serfs. It put many of the wealthy class on edge, but it was purely entertainment for Wylan. He knew he wasn't important enough to go on a cross-country carriage trip, and so he need not worry.

Cordelia continued. “I heard that Sharpshooter hit a gun straight out of the carriage drivers hand from thirty feet away with only a pistol! And that Dirtyhands broke Hoede's nose for speaking out of turn.”

“That treatment is only fair. Lord Hoede takes nine out of ten bundles of wheat from everyone of his farms and gives nothing back to workers. Now he knows how it feels to be robbed.”

Cordelia giggled at his response but pressed on. “You forget yourself, my liege. You are next in line, are you not? You could be their next target.”

“You flatter me. I am nowhere near that important.”

Cordelia was in the midst of crafting a reply when her face fell. That expression could only mean one thing: Cornelius Smeet.

Cordelia bowed her head. “My liege.” She carefully walked away to attend to her duties.

Smeet smiled his grotesque smile. “Are you trying to trick the gardener into your bedchamber? I must warn you, she is very prudish.”

“Believe it or not, Smeet, not every conversation is for that purpose. I have many conversations with people I do not wish to bed. For instance, you.” He stated the sentences blandly. He found that was the best way to get rid of the leech. Smeet had been an advisor to Lord Van Eck for as long as Wylan could remember, and he was still as slimy as the Wylan was first introduced to him. 

Smeet's smile wavered for a bit and then curved downward into a frown. “You're no fun.” He huffed out a long sigh. “His Lord Van Eck has asked me to inform you that there will be a traveling circus performing tomorrow. You will expected to attend along with the rest of the court.”

“Tell the Lord I will be happy to attend.” He was not happy to attend, but he was happy that the conversation was over. Smeet nodded his head and scampered off to the safety of the throne room. 

After that uncomfortable dialogue, the young noble needed a break from the world. Wylan lay down by his favorite tree and took out his sketchbook. He drew the lines of the the horizon and the trees in the distance, but found it hard to concentrate. He kept thinking back to the Crows. Their selfless acts intrigued him to no end. No one he knew would ever willingly give up money, and yet they did it regularly. Somehow, though, he could understand their motivations. Although he'd only ever seen selfishness and corruption in his life, he craved equality.

He drifted off imagining how he would help the Crows in their quest. He imagined himself being something good.


	2. The Plan

**Jesper**

 

As a child, Jesper's life was perfect. The jurda fields were colorful, and his parents were loving. He had everything a little boy could ever want. Soon, though, Jesper found out that life was not always empty fields and happy families. His mother died of smallpox when he was little and, although he did his best, his father could never quite replace her. She had been wondrous, truly awe-inspiring. And then she was gone. Jesper had felt as though a part of him died that day along with her.

He tried looking for something, anything, that made him feel alive again. His mother had taught him to shoot, and he honed that skill. He tried to farm until he was too tired to think, but the repetition bored him. Eventually, his concerned father had sent him abroad so he could find another reason to be alive. And soon Jesper found it: gambling.

First in small groups of friends from university, then alone. He felt a certain feeling he hadn't experienced before. He felt alive. Not the way he had felt when his mother was still living, but instead a new kind of life. He felt his pulse thrumming with every kruge he put down. He felt his breath coming faster with the spin of the wheel.

But soon the only things he felt were his very empty pockets. He had less than no money, trapped on the dirty streets and begging for a living. He was found by a small gang who helped him out of his incredible debt in exchange for some odd, and possibly illegal, jobs. After a while, he found he liked the work. It was fulfilling and exhilarating, never tedious or repetitive. As the years went on, he became closer to the gang. They became a second family to him. They began to call themselves the Crows, after the ominous bird often spotted in Ketterdam.

The leader of this band of misfits was Kaz “Dirtyhands” Brekker. He held a strong resentment towards a Lord of Kerch. Lord Pekka Rollins had worked Kaz's family to starvation, taking the fruits of their suffering and given them nothing in return. One harsh winter, his parents died, leaving only him and his brother, who was later killed by the plague. The illness had been spread by Rollins’ own soldiers who patrolled the village day and night. These two tragedies had happened within a year of each other, and together had fully cemented Kaz's blood feud with Rollins.

When the Crows had discovered his harrowing tale, they had promised to help avenge his family. And so they had planned. Months later, the family of five robbed Rollins blind, leaving him with only his title. At first they were tempted to keep the money, but as they were making their daring escape, they witnessed a starving little girl no older than six begging for scraps. They decided then and there to give the money to the serfs who had earned it. 

News traveled fast, and soon the Crows were infamous. Stealing from Lords was practically unheard of, but giving the money back to the farmers was unprecedented. And so they continued their work. They kept a small amount of money for themselves to make ends meet, but the majority of the wealth collected was redistributed to those who needed it. Their fame continued to grow with every heist. Lords were suddenly scared to travel without protection. Soon, they were scared to travel at all. 

A smile grew on Jesper's face every time he thought about it. A Lord locked away in his castle, trembling in fear over five teenagers.

…

“We already have an invite from the Lord himself. Our ‘traveling circus’ will infiltrate the castle, obtain information about the carriage schedule, and plan accordingly.” Kaz laid out the plan simply, no room for disagreement. 

It was their usual ruse. They'd done it many times and had never once been caught. Inej was the first act, and after she shocked the audience with her gravity defying stunts she would slip away into the private offices. After she had collected the information needed, they would leave the premises quickly, hoping to leave before they were discovered. Lord Van Eck was their target at the moment. He was cruel to his servants as well as his serfs, and was incredibly wealthy. 

“Don't patronize us, Kaz. We've done this one thousand times,” Nina scolded, rolling her eyes.

Kaz glared at her, but his expression was almost permanently a scowl, so it had little effect. The horse drawn carriage they were all sitting in pitched to the side harshly, and the train of conversation was derailed. They had changed into their costumes earlier at their encampment, and were on their way to the castle. 

Kaz was dressed in an all black suit complete with a top hat and cane. His role would be as ringmaster, since it would seem strange to boast about his lock picking skills or fighting prowess. Inej was costumed in a colorful leotard that covered all of her skin except for her face. She wore soft shoes in order to stay on the tightrope effectively. Nina was in a low cut red dress and corset, playing the role of a beautiful weight for their strongman, Matthias, who wore a sleeveless shirt to expose his muscled arms. Jesper himself was in a gaudy lime green and neon yellow suit. He had chosen it himself and refused to wear anything else for his act, much to Kaz's chagrin. He was a sharp shooter, and a very good one. He could enamour his audience with his dazzling smile and amaze them with his shooting. All of this would distract them from the heist taking place behind their backs.

Their carriage slowed, and the five of them readied themselves for the extravagance to come. Jesper had a certain appreciation for nice things, he would admit that freely. But Lords were on a different level. They filled their homes with gold and marble and jewels, so much so that even Jesper thought it was a bit much. Jan Van Eck was no exceptions to the rule. 

The group exited the carriage and collected the supplies they would need for the show. Matthias hauled all of the weights by himself. It was a bit braggadocious if you asked Jesper. Jesper gathered his targets, Inej her tightrope, Kaz his flash powder for misdirection. They brought their equipment into the grandiose hall, and were led down it into a back room by a butler. He could already feel the rumble of the crowd through the wall. He could feel the energy, the buzz of people who were waiting for something. He peeked through a small crack in the door in order to spy the assembly. 

His eyes locked onto a young boy in the front row. He was sitting right next to Lord Van Eck, so he must have been his son. He was beautiful.  _ And a lordling _ , his mind provided unhelpfully. His red hair curled perfectly around his ears, and his skin was as pale as porcelain. The boy turned in Jesper's direction, and his heart began beating wildly in his chest as he beheld those eyes. They were as blue as the sky - no, bluer - and sparkling. It might have been Jesper's imagination, but the lordling's eyes seemed to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He smirked and winked at the boy who blushed furiously and looked away.

Jesper knew that this show was going to be one to remember.


	3. The Show

**Wylan**

 

The boy peeking out from the door backstage was strikingly beautiful. His eyes were a stormy gray, reminding Wylan of skies in spring. His skin was smooth and dark, stretching tightly over a strong jaw. But his lips, they were the stuff of myths. They looked plush and full and were slowly twisting into a smirk. He looked back up at those stormy eyes and they winked at him. He felt his cheeks flush red and turned away quickly. If his father saw the way he looked at boys the Lord would finally have a reason to send him away for good. The show began, and it was exactly the distraction he needed.

A slim Suli girl walked out with a pale boy dressed in all black. The man in black began to introduce the show in a gravelly voice as the girl set up what looked like a tight rope and acrobatic set. She walked slowly up the ladder, and once she reached the top she started to balance on the thin cord. She walked across it quickly, and then the ringmaster threw a long stick directly at her. She caught it gracefully and the crowd applauded. She added weight to both sides if the stick and walked across again, this time a bit slower. She did this for a little while, but eventually she looked as if she was about to fall. Instead, she flipped onto a rope and swung out towards the audience. She grasped a rose one young man held out for her and swung back to the middle of the ring. She did these tricks for a time, and then she landed nimbly on the ground. 

Then, things took a turn for the worse. The lanky Zemeni man who had winked at him walked in as the Suli girl walked out. He immediately found Wylan’s eyes and smirked cockily. He proceeded to shoot three targets directly in the center. Wylan was incredibly impressed, and somehow a little breathless. He took a deep breath to steady himself. He could not let his father see how the boy made him feel. The Zemeni flipped his guns expertly and shot another target without even looking at it. Instead, he was staring directly at Wylan. The Lord's son looked down at the ground and tried to ignore the beautiful man in front of him. 

Apparently, the man in the ring noticed the neglect because he turned his attention to another audience member. The girl practically fainted when he winked at her, and Wylan clenched his fist angrily. He knew he had no right to feel that way, but his body had a mind of its own. The tall Zemeni performed a few more stunts and dazzled a few more girls. Wylan, however, was the only member if the audience he returned his gaze to. And if a small part of him was happy about that, it was no one's business. Wylan's knees certainly did not go weak when faced with the brunt of the man's arrogant grin.

Suddenly, he stopped his display to the disappointment of the crowd, but he spoke instead. A deep baritone floated out of his perfect lips as he said, “For my next trick, I need a volunteer from the audience.” Hands shot up imiediatly, most women hoping for his affection. Wylan fought the urge to lift his own hand. He clenched his palm in his lap and looked down at the ground. He was too weak, he had to look up. As he did so, though, the man locked eyes with him and pointed. 

“You!” he cried joyously. He walked quickly on his long legs to Wylan's seat and bowed to Van Eck. “My Lord, may I use your son in a demonstration. I give you my word he will not be harmed.” He said the words with an honest tone, but Wylan could see the smirk on his face. He did not respect Wylan's father, and just that fact made him more partial to the man. 

“Do what you will,” Van Eck ordered, dismissively waving his hand.

The Zemeni man held out his hand, and Wylan breathed a sigh and he took it delicately. He walked to the target on shaky legs, obviously nervous.

“Don't worry, I wouldn't ruin a face as pretty as this with a bullet hole,” the man whispered to him. He obviously was misinterpreting the nervousness. Of course Wylan was more nervous about being around a pretty boy than being shot at. He played along to keep up the act.

“Of course you would say that, you are too arrogant to see your own faults.”

The gunman smirked at his quip, and followed it up with a comment of his own. “You know me so well already it seems as though we have skipped our courtship. Does this mean I can kiss you?” he asked, making a kissing motion with his lips.

Wylan blushed but rolled his eyes. “Just shoot me.”

The man walked backwards and then continued walking. And walking. He reached to opposite side of the ring and aimed his gun at Wylan. The red head sucked in a breath harshly and held it, closing his eyes tightly. He heard gunshots, many of them. He felt wind fly past his face and he kept completely still. Then, the shots stopped. He cracked his eyes open slightly to see the man, smug grin still in place on his gorgeous face. The audience applauded wildly, and Wylan looked up. Around him and above him he could see a multitude of bullet holes. They were so close that even a slight movement on his part would have caused a wound. But every one missed. Every single shot. It was breathtaking. The man walked him back to his seat, which was unnecessary but appreciated. 

As he helped him back into his seat, he whispered “The name's Jesper.” With that, he walked away and went on with the show. 

The next act was a strongman. He was Fjerdan and muscled, lifting weight after weight as if they were nothing. Eventually, a beautiful women walked out and he lifted her above his head with ease. Behind him, he heard a young woman whisper that she wished he had asked for volunteers as well. 

The show ended with a large collective act that was hard to pay attention to. It was a jumble of activity, every act relating to the next and so on. When they tried to end the show, they received an encore. Lord Van Eck stood and the audience quieted down.

“Please do us the honor of staying for the feast tonight.” He said it blandly, obviously bored out of his mind. 

“We really must be on our way. We have to arrive at our next stop by tomorrow,” the ringmaster replied smoothly.

“You _ must _ stay. It would be an honor.” It was more of an order than a request, and the man in black immediately recognized the tone.

He stiffened minutely. “It is an honor to dine with you, Lord.” He bowed lowly.

…

As the crowd filed into the large banquet hall, Wylan felt a tug on his hand. He turned to see Jesper smirking at him.

“Follow me, lordling.” 

Wylan rolled his eyes at the nickname, but he blushed at the long fingers holding his own. He followed willingly. They rounded a corner and Jesper pulled him through a random door. He shut it behind him and smiled viciously, exactly like a predator about to devour its prey.

“Umm…” Wylan mumbled intelligently as he started to back up. “I think that there's been some kind of mistake.” Jesper had him backed up against the wall, right where he wanted him.

“Oh I don't think so,” he replied, grinning impossibly wider. He looked akin to a shark, and Wylan would never admit that he loved it.

Wylan bit his lip, and Jesper's eyes tracked the movement. “Well maybe not a mistake exactly. But I really should get back before my father notices.” As he kept talking, Jesper continued to lean closer to him. “I um…” He swallowed hard. Jesper was so close to his face now that every time he talked his lips brushed the taller boy's. “We really shouldn't do this,” he said finally. Jesper pulled away imiediatly. That was a good sign, he was a decent man.

“Why not, lordling?” he asked innocently, tilting his head as if he was a puppy. 

“My father is looking for a reason to get rid of me already. I don't need to hand him one on a silver platter.” The words were less meaningful because Wylan couldn't tear his eyes away from the other boy’s lips. He started to move forward involuntarily.

“You're being a bit unclear. I don't want this if you don't want this. I don't even know your name.”

“It's Wylan,” he said before leaning in and kissing Jesper as if his life depended on it. They stayed there for a good while, trading kisses back and forth. But, as all things do, it came to an end. Wylan left with a final kiss to Jesper's haunting lips and a heavy heart.

He knew he would never see the man of his dreams again.

…

After the feast, Wylan tried to keep avoiding his father. Alas, the man seemed to seek him out. This behavior was unusual, as Van Eck usually preferred to act as though his son didn't exist. That night, however, he acted quite differently. 

“Wylan! Come here. I must speak to you at once,” he ordered in a commanding tone.

“Yes, Lord,” Wylan submitted. He bowed his head as he approached, a sign of subservience he hoped would dull his father's temper.

“I have great news for you. You are going to be married in three months!”

Wylan balked. “I… Pardon?” He must not have heard correctly. There must have been some mistake. 

“I knew you were an imbecile, but I didn't know you were dumb  _ and _ deaf. I said you are getting married. You must pack your bags. You're leaving in one week.”

“Father, I can't go. Who am I marrying? And why so suddenly. There must be some mistake.”

“You are a subject of mine. You will do as I say!” The statement was final. For Wylan, it felt like the final nail in his coffin. He would never again live his own life. He would forever live in the ominous shadow of his father. 

He lowered his head again. “Yes, Lord.”


	4. The Heist

**Jesper**

 

Jesper was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride back from the castle. As the carriage hit a bump in the road, he reflected on his time with Wylan. It was bittersweet in a way his experiences usually weren't. He would've liked to see Wylan again, but knew he never would. They planned the heist for the next week when a carriage was scheduled to take some “precious cargo” from the castle to the port and ship it all the way to Ravka. Unfortunately for Van Eck, that route would be interrupted. And after that, Jesper knew he could never contact anyone at the Van Eck manor ever again for fear of discovery. 

As they settled down at their encampment, Matthias asked, “Jesper, are you feeling alright? What has you down?” Because he was a Fjerdan man, he was often given too little credit when it came to emotions. But Matthias had an uncanny instinct for such things, and always could tell when something was amiss.

Jesper just looked up to the sky and sighed. “I'm fine.”

“Oh Ghezen,” Nina cried, “Jesper's heartbroken!’

“What in the world gives you  _ that _ impression?” Jesper asked incredulously. He had worked unyieldingly to mold a reputation for himself, and he was not going to be found out now.

“You just  _ sighed _ . You sighed  _ wistfully _ !” Nina was jumping up and down with excitement.

“What happened,” droned Kaz, “Did the lordling not take kindly to your advances?” 

“No,” Jesper huffed. “I'll have you know he was a wonderful kisser.”

“Then what…  _ Oh _ .” Nina looked as though she'd had a revelation. “You  _ like _ him. Not just his face, but his whole self!”

“I did  _ not _ say that!” Jesper replied too quickly. 

“Don't be embarrassed, it's a step in the right direction.” Matthias patted him on the back after the statement.

Kaz smiled wickedly. “Inej, dearest, I think Jesper needs your advice. It seems he is in love with the Lord's boy.”

“I am  _ not _ in love!”

“That sounds like love to me,” Inej replied, floating out of her tent.

“You know you'll probably never see him again,” Kaz said bluntly. Inej and Nina both smacked him.

“I know,” Jesper responded solemnly. 

And he did know. He knew he'd never again see that quiet smile or those sparkling eyes. He knew that thinking about him would only make it worse. 

But he couldn't find it in himself to forget about Wylan, and if he was honest with himself, he didn't want to.

…

The plan was simple. They'd cut down a tree on the only path to the port and then they'd wait. The tree was already down, it was the waiting that was hard. Waiting always brought around memories of Wylan and of those kisses. He didn't want to sit still. 

He turned to Kaz. “Let me go in first this time.” He needed a distraction. 

Kaz nodded his ascent, and the Crows continued to wait. Just as Jesper was getting really antsy, they heard a carriage approach. It was bejeweled and covered in gold. Stripping the outside alone would most likely be worth more than his father's farm. The extravagant vessel came to a halt at the tree, and all five of the Crows rode in on horseback with masks pulled up past their mouths and hats low on their heads. It was a bit cliche, but it was enough to earn them fame without revealing their identities. Jesper arrived there first, shooting the gun out of the carriage driver’s hand and shooting off the lock on the carriage door in two swift movements. He took the door in his gloved hand and swung it open harshly. What he saw inside shocked him.

It was filled with money and a large man, most likely the treasurer. But that was all usual. What surprised him, though, was the small man in the corner. He had soft red curls framing his freckled face and bright blue eyes. Wylan Van Eck was sitting in front of him, looking scared out of his mind. 

He spoke on instinct. As the other Crows collected the bags of gold and jewels, Jesper ordered “Give me the boy.” 

“We won't pay a ransom,” the large man puffed full of false bravado.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” growled Jesper.

The man shook as he handed over Wylan. The smaller boy was shaking as well. Jesper couldn't wait to take off the mask. Hopefully he would be happy and not want to attack him. 

“He's right, you know. Lord Van Eck will not give you random money. There's no use in taking me.” He jostled Jesper's grip a little. 

Jesper smiled widely under the mask. Wylan was stubborn in even the worst situations. Jesper pulled him onto his horse and with that the Crows left, kicking the sides of their horses. 

...

The group finally reached the encampment just as Jesper felt Wylan struggling to escape.

“You don't want to do that, trust me. The fall is not pleasant.”

“It's better than being kidnapped! Unhand me you masked thief.” He almost fell off the horse in his righteous fury, but Jepser grabbed his shirt at the last moment.

“Calm down, lordling.” He lowered his mask.

“Jesper?  _ You're _ the Sharpshooter? That's incredible!”

Jesper smirked. “Are you a fan?”

Wylan glowered at him. “Arrogance does not look good on you.”

Jesper ginned again. “We both know you don't believe that.”

Wylan blushed adorably and submitted, “Maybe. Everything tends to look good on you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, lordling.”

Jesper was about to kiss Wylan, but Nina interrupted by squealing “Oh, Ghezen help us all. They are adorable!” 

Kaz looked unimpressed. “Disgusting, really.”

Inej elbowed him hard. “Don't be disrespectful, Kaz.”

“I, for one, think it's good Jesper found someone who satisfies his... unique needs. He does have a history of taking multiple partners.”

Wylan's face went bright red. He looked nervous, biting his lip. Jesper found it incredibly distracting and forced himself not to track the movement. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” he whispered to Wylan. And he didn't. It felt strange to know so suddenly, but he knew that Wylan could never disappoint him.

“I've never- If you wanted- Did you really take many partners at once?” He was so shockingly innocety it warmed Jesper’s heart.

“I told you, there's nothing for you to worry about. I just know you won't disappoint me.” He smiled wickedly.

“Well I'm not exactly the most experienced.” He had the audacity to look embarrassed.

Jesper smiled broadly. “I happen to be an  _ amazing _ teacher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy so all I have left is the small epilogue and then we're done! This story is much shorter than the others I've written, but I enjoyed it a lot. Anyway, thanks for all the support and I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!


	5. The End

**Epilogue**

 

After a few long discussions, Wylan decided to join the gang. The Six of Crows were formed, and they continued their quest for equality in Kerch. They took down Lord after Lord with Wylan's demolitions expertise, and gave thousands of people enough money to survive - thrive, even.

Jesper and Wylan's relationship continued to blossom and grow, and the redhead soon discovered that Jesper  _ was _ a great teacher. The rest of the Crows welcomed him with open arms, and after a while even Kaz saw him as family. Wylan, for his part, was happy to give up a warm bed in exchange for someone to keep him warm. Though early spring was cold, Jesper was always near. And giving up material possessions was easy when he was also giving up his father's controlling nature. 

It had been three months, to the day, since Wylan and been “abducted”, and he had spent every day of it happier than ever. He woke up with a smile in his face and turned to Jesper. He, surprisingly, was not in their bed. Wylan frowned, but as he was about to go look for him, he burst through the tent flap.

“Happy anniversary, Wy!” He was holding two large plates of a breakfast that both looked and smelled delicious. 

Wylan smiled gratefully. “You didn't have to do all this, Jes. I would've been happy to just spend the day in your company.”

“I know, but we do that everyday. I have something special planned.” His grin did nothing to hide the fact he had something extravagant planned. 

“What did you do?” Wylan asked suspiciously.

“Only something amazing.” 

…

“Close your eyes, lordling.”

Wylan sighed at the nickname and rolled his eyes. They walked for a little bit, and eventually came to a stop. Jesper inhaled heavily, and told Wylan he could open his eyes. When he did, he was astounded. In front of him was a large, well tended, rose garden. “Jes… Ghezen. This is too much.” 

“Whenever you tell me about the garden at the manor you always seem so happy. I want you to feel that way always.” Jesper had a shy and nervous smile in place on his beautiful features. It was unusual to see him doubt himself.

Wylan looked up at him with tearful eyes. “I'm happy when I'm around you regardless. I hope you weren't under the impression that I was unhappy here.”

“Of course not, honey. But I wanted to make you happier.” Jesper smiled down at him, and he beamed back.

“Oh no,” Wylan cried in realization, “My gift won't measure up to this! You spent months planning this, didn't you.” Wylan felt distressed. He had worked hard in his gift, but it wasn't a rose garden.

“Wy, I would be happy with a kiss on the cheek.” His tone was comedic, but Wylan had the sneaking suspicion he was serious.

Wylan looked down ashamedly, passing over a rectangular package. He just hoped Jesper wouldn't hate it. Jesper ripped at the package like a savage animal, grinning before he'd even seen it fully. He knew what it was precisely when he saw the frame. Wylan had been working on his paintings since he'd first joined the Crows, and this was his final project. As Jesper ripped away the final piece of paper, his grin became impossibly wider. 

“Wy,” his smile was more sincere this time. “This is extraordinary.” He seemed truly impressed with the work. It pictured Jesper in his Sharpshooter outfit holding out his hand. It was exactly the way Wylan had seen him three months ago.

“It's not all that,” Wylan replied, blushing.

“Wylan, it's everything.  _ You're _ everything.” Wylan blushed again, and moved closer to the tall Zemeni.

“Jesper, I have something to tell you. The title of the piece is ‘Stealing a Heart’ and-”

“That's adorable,” Jesper cut in, pulling Wylan close and nuzzling his neck. 

“Wait no,” he said pulling away minutely. “Let me finish. I- I love you Jesper.”

Jesper pulled back even more looking a little shocked. “I-”

“You don't have to say it back,” Wylan replied quickly. “I just want you to know. I love you.” He tried to pull back fully, but Jesper pulled him into a hard kiss.

As Jesper pulled back, just enough for air, he said, “I love you, Wylan. More than anything. I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading through this short but sweet write. I was just hit with the idea randomly and had to write something. Anyway, thanks so much for the support!!!


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